


in any season

by haloud



Series: in any season [1]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 06:16:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19458091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haloud/pseuds/haloud
Summary: When Liz first suggested they take a road trip to unwind and get away, Michael thought the idea was a little silly, a little ridiculous, but now, at this scenic overlook surrounded by other tourists and travelers, hundreds of miles away from everything and everyone they know, Michael just wants to see Alex in every light there is.





	in any season

**Author's Note:**

> written for chamblerstara, who sent the prompt "fall" on tumblr <3  
> also that fluff tag is SERIOUS you've been warned
> 
> this fic is not for redistribution without my express permission.

Michael blinks in the sunlight, and blinks again. His days pass like that lately, like blinking. Like rubbing his eyes to relieve an afterimage seared onto his retinas or the last cobwebbed remnants of a dream. But no amount of blinking—or rubbing—or pinching—or any other way of tricking himself awake changes what he sees in front of him, that beautiful, impossible vision.

The desert might be home, but seeing Alex dappled by light through bright red and yellow leaves tugs at something deeper in Michael’s soul, in his gut. Sometimes Alex catches him staring and tilts his head that way he does, tilts that eyebrow, tilts his mouth in that smile, a little confused, a lot indulgent, and it’s all so—so _Alex_ it bowls Michael over every time and sends him tumbling backwards into the moss and litter.

They don’t have fall like this back home. When Liz first suggested they take a road trip to unwind and get away, Michael thought the idea was a little silly, a little ridiculous, but now, at this scenic overlook surrounded by other tourists and travelers, hundreds of miles away from everything and everyone they know…it’s awoken something ravenous in him, something reckless. He wants to—he needs to—see Alex in this light and every other, take him everywhere on this planet and the next and the next one after that, and they’ll never stop, Michael knows he’ll never be done, just over the next horizon there will always be something new that makes Alex more Alex, that knits itself into his heart.

“Michael…” Alex’s voice is a little singsong, a little teasing, and he blows a gentle stream of air into Michael’s ear, making him jump and scowl playfully.

“Hey, uncalled for,” he says, looping an arm around Alex’s waist and yanking him in close. He smells like the fall, too, like cinnamon from the coffee they picked up early in the morning, like the leaves tumbling dry and sweet all around them, like the cool wind clings to his hair and skin. Michael wants to nuzzle in and bask in the crook of Alex’s neck where the scent of his skin is strongest, but Alex beats him to it, draping his arm around Michael’s shoulders and leaning his forehead against Michael’s temple and letting out a contented sigh.

“What’s on your mind? You’re a million miles away,” Alex murmurs.

“Just lookin’ at you, is all. You’re distracting like that, you know.”

“Charmer.”

“Mmm, you know it.”

“You can look at me any day,” and Alex’s thumb strokes the curve of Michael’s shoulder with reverent slowness, like he can’t quite believe it either, “Don’t you want to look at this view?”

“It _is_ gorgeous. But I guess it just doesn’t quite compare.”

Alex snorts and pinches him gently, and Michael’s face splits in a broad grin. He closes his eyes and tips his head back as the breeze tugs at his hair, grown out long enough to tickle the back of his neck.

“’Scuse me, boys?”

A voice penetrates their little bubble; Alex pulls back, shoulders going military-straight, and Michael flushes a little at the way they were twined around each other. But he doesn’t move his arm from around Alex’s waist, even as he watches the woman who’s addressed them warily.

“Sorry to interrupt your moment” she says with a smile. “It’s just I noticed y’all don’t have a camera, and y’all’re awfully sweet—seems like it would be a shame not to have something to remember such a lovely day by. You have a phone? Want me to take a picture of you two? Or y’all can tell me to buzz off, I know I’m buttin’ in.” She shrugs. Over her shoulder, Michael locks eyes with a girl who must be this woman’s daughter, looking like she wants to burrow into the ground to get away from her mother’s embarrassing behavior. There’s another girl at her side. A surge of fondness for this nosy woman makes Michael smile, too.

“Ma’am—”

“Sure.” Alex cuts Michael off, holding his phone out to the woman and tugging Michael closer to the overlook, pulling him in so they’re all tangled up as one. This won’t be like the other picture, the only one of them Michael’s got, even now. This one is—it’s _them,_ it’s _now,_ it’s everything that’s _going_ to be, and Michael’s heart—he can hardly take it, hardly even remembers to smile.

When he looks at the pictures later, though, while he sits in their rental car with his knees scrunched up on the dash, the pictures line up pretty well, for all that there’s a world of difference in the world. It’s—Michael’s face turned to Alex like sunflowers towards the sun, looking for all the world like he’s never looked at anything else.

Michael thinks maybe every picture ever taken of the two of them is gonna look like that.

And he might just be okay with that.

Outside the window, the world goes by in slow circles of winding mountain road, and Michael could be watching. He could lean his head against the window, hold Alex’s hand on the console between them, and drink in the sight of the tall pines, and trickling waterfalls, and the huge drooping oaks and skinny birches and sugar maples all lit up scarlet and gold. That’s what they’re out here to do, after all, but—

He just…watches Alex instead. One hand with a sure grip on the wheel, the other resting invitingly on his thigh—and Michael does reach over to twine their fingers together. Alex smiles as he drives, sunglasses left aside to better take in the view, each strip of sunlight through the leaves turning his eyes the brown-gold of fall itself. Every mile they drive, Michael falls deeper, settles in, relearns himself. He’ll love Alex in the next place they land, too, and he’ll do it back in Roswell, too, in this season and the next—for—for richer and for poorer—and damn if that thought doesn’t jump right into his head, and damn if it doesn’t make a lump of emotion rise a bit in his throat.

But they’ve got time, and they’ve got each other, and all they need to worry about is the next strip of road waiting ahead of them.

That’s more than enough for now.


End file.
